


Jealousy over a tulip

by Quietlemonhush



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Timeline, Bottom Sirius, Canon Divergence, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Overstimulation, Possessive Remus, Questionable Consent, Top Remus, but Sirius is definitely into it, werewolf antics, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-21 17:51:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18145472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quietlemonhush/pseuds/Quietlemonhush
Summary: There are other werewolves near Sirius. Remus totally isn’t jealous. Not even a little.





	Jealousy over a tulip

Remus Lupin was not a jealous man.

He was, in fact, excellent at sharing. He shared his knowledge, his chocolates, even his books. He didn’t mind if Peter dog eared his books or James spilled an errant potion on his favorite pair of robes; if they were being used for learning, if people were growing and thriving and understanding the world better, Remus was happy. If his last chocolate bar would cheer Dorcas up on a particularly bad day, he would give it to her without a thought in the world. He didn’t give because his supply was limitless; Remus’ family had enough money to survive, but they weren’t rich, and his pocket change was no grander than anyone else’s, and certainly smaller than James and Sirius’. But he liked to see people smile, and he liked to see people learn, and he believed in life over possessions. Even after Hogwarts, struggling to make ends meet and resisting James’ endless generosity, Remus gave freely, easily.

There were, however, a few things Remus didn’t share. Special things. His most treasured. If, for example, Sirius brought home his favorite brand of chocolate, flavored ever so subtly with hints of dark wines and fresh berries, Remus would eat it all in luxurious and greedy bites. And when Lily bought him a first edition of Oliver Twist, Remus wouldn’t let anyone borrow it, or hardly touch it without gloves. These were the rare things, the exquisite things, the things Remus knew he would only ever have so much of.

This philosophy might explain why he got so sour faced whenever someone came after Sirius.

Oh, Remus understood why they did. Sirius was a sight most days. He was long limbed and limber from author training. He twisted with easy grace, and smiled something canine and laughing and good. His hair was long and curled a little, and when he piled it atop his head he looked elegant and handsome and touchable. And Sirius did touch, trail his long fingers along surfaces to get the feel of them, mouthed absently at his fingertips and lips when he was thinking. He wore tight black jeans that made clear the curve of his ass, the strength of his thighs. He was lovely. He caught eyes.

Sometimes Sirius was oblivious, lost in a project and forgetful of the charm he exuded. Sometimes Sirius was a brat, flirted to get Remus in a fuss. Mostly Sirius was good natured and friendly, and wanted to accomplish things more than he wanted to be ogled, and ignored those who tried to flirt with him. He knew he was good looking, and he knew he would die wanting to kiss Remus Lupin again, and it didn’t matter who else he met; they wouldn’t have golden eyes and a smile that made him feel dizzy.

Remus knew. He knew Sirius would never be unfaithful, knew the looks meant nothing. He had learned that Sirius flirting back was Sirius requesting to be fucked hard against a nearby wall. He knew that his only competition had ever been James, and Sirius still called that incest.

The problem was that Sirius smelled  _ good. _

And Remus was watching other werewolves lean in to smell him.

It had been Remus’ idea to bring in werewolves from the camps to talk to Dumbledore. They could negotiate for magical training, or homes, or safety on the full moons, in exchange for their support against Voldemort. Remus thought it would be handled by himself and Dumbledore alone. Remus didn’t think his friends would be involved.

But they found out; they always found out. Instead of doing a series of separate meetings, Marlene suggested they expedite the whole process.  _ They might feel safer coming in groups _ , she said. And James, like a bloody  _ idiot _ , suggested that Potter Manor was uninhabited, and had enough farmland surrounding to hide from prying eyes, and of course Sirius volunteered to come along because he  _ loved _ werewolves.

So here they were. Potter Manor, a handful of werewolves who had most certainly sniffed Sirius’ hair the moment he walked in the door, and Remus feeling like a sullen three year old.

“Alright, Moons?” James asked, sitting next to him at the breakfast table in a dining room that was far too luxurious. Across the room, Sirius was trying to teach Luna, a 20-something girl with blonde hair and scars twirling down her chin, how to play Exploding Snap. Remus knew for a fact that she had mastered the lesson fifteen minutes ago and was playing dumb for the pleasure of Sirius’ company. James smiled a little teasing smile. “Sirius driving you mad?”

“No,” Remus lied, although there was no point: James always saw it, and in seventh year had once purposefully slapped Sirius’ ass three hours before the full just to watch Remus snarl. James didn’t know that Remus got one of the best blowjobs of his life out of that.

“Oh just go get him,” James said. “A quick snog might calm your nerves.”

“I’m  _ fine _ ,” Remus snapped, watching as a man with a blue eyes and patches of hair missing sat down beside Sirius. They  _ gravitated _ to him. If he was honest, Remus would admit that everyone gravitated to Sirius, werewolf or no. But he didn’t feel like being honest. He felt like kicking James and Sirius out and handling security on his own.

Never mind that he was in a room with ten werewolves four days before the Full. 

“Alright, sure. Fine it is.” James shrugged and leaned back on two legs in his chair, drumming his fingers on the table top. “So you wouldn’t mind if those two with the matching moon tattoos showed Sirius the rest of their ink.”

“Shut the fuck up, James.” Remus snapped, then closed his eyes and shook his head violently. “I mean. Bloody hell. James, quit pushing my buttons.”

James tossed back his head and laughed. “Alright Moony, I’m truly sorry. No more from me. Marauders honor. Look, I’ll even go distract them for you.” He rose on his feet, but as he did his expression changed from mirth to confusion, and when Remus followed his gaze he saw a big man with corded muscles and no shirt kissing Sirius, one hand tangled in his hair, Sirius’ eyes wide with shock.

Before he could think, Remus was crossing the room in long strides, curling his fingers around Sirius’ bicep, yanking him up from his chair and out of the man’s grip.

“Excuse me,” Remus ground out. “He’s accounted for.”

The man smiled a lazy smile up at Remus. “Sorry mate,” he said, and wasn’t. “Just saying hello.”

“Well here we say hello without our tongues.” Remus said. James, who had come hurrying after him to defuse the situation, kicked him hard. He closed his eyes.  _ Right. _ This was a diplomatic meeting. Dumbledore was in the other room with a redhead trying to parlay housing in return for her loyalty. It wouldn’t do to start a fight. Especially one the three of them would be hard pressed to win. And the fact that James was the one telling him to be calm almost certainly meant he was toeing a dangerous line.

“Which will be a helpful note should you frequent any pubs,” James said with a forced laugh. “Unless you’d like to make some friends quicker than expected.”

“Never hurts to make a friend,” the man said, eyeing Sirius. James laughed uneasily. Sirius scowled, and pulled on the arm Remus was holding.

Remus tightened his grip. “Excuse me,” he said, and half dragged Sirius out of the room and into the hall. Portraits of James’ ancestors watched him lose his cool. “You need to go home,” Remus snapped, turning Sirius to face him.

“You’re overreacting,” Sirius said, as if Remus wasn’t squeezing his arm so hard it’d break. “And a little jealous.”

“I am not jealous!”

“Not jealous?” Sirius waggled his eyebrows, grinning. He looked dissheveled and beautiful and Remus wanted to lick his neck. “Not even a teensy bit jealous?”

“Go.home.” Remus spat.

“You know I can’t.” Sirius flexed his arm, and Remus felt the muscles moving beneath his fingers. “Dumbledore wants me here in case things go south. Which they almost certainly will if you keep puffing out your chest like that.”

“You don’t understand how these people look at you!”

“I understand how to use my wand,” Sirius said. “I’m not a bloody tulip. I can care for myself.”

“He kissed you!”

“And I would have handled it if you hadn’t stormed in!”

Remus closed his eyes, and pushed back the roaring in his head, the voice that said Sirius was  _ his _ and no one else could touch, and swallowed hard. “You’re right,” He said, and let go of Sirius’ arm, suddenly hot and ashamed. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I lost my cool.”

Sirius looked at him skeptically for a moment, then nodded. “Happens to the best of us.” He leaned forward, looking up at Remus through thick black lashes, and Remus remembered that same look from the last time Sirius was on his knees. “Don’t worry, Moony. You’re the only werewolf for me.” He winked, and then strode back into the room.

Remus leaned his head against the wall and tried to breathe.

  
  
  


Remus was doing alright. Remus was coping. Remus was losing his absolute fucking cool because they were all over him, asking him questions, getting him to do magic, any excuse to see the elegant swish of Sirius’ arm, the way his pale fingers wrapped around his wand. Remus wanted to scream.

Sirius was transforming into Padfoot and back, and two women were gasping with delight every time he did, and Remus knew Sirius ate up attention but he also knew the predatory look in their eyes, and that Sirius was an idiot who underestimated every opponent because he was arrogant. 

Remus tried to ignore it. He spent time talking to Julian, a boy who could barely be out of his teens and had a feral look Remus knew would never leave his eyes. He talked with Jim and Bryan, the tattooed ones, about the rumors of Wolfsbane. He answered Trina’s questions about the Ministry and asked her about life in Scotland. But mostly, he kept his eyes trained on Sirius.

Finally it was down to just a few, the others being ferried back to where ever they came by James, the first time many of them had apparated. Dumbledore came out of his talk with Julian, who Remus hoped would get at least a teacher. “Remus,” Dumbledore said, “would you join us?”

Remus looked up, his mouth open. He glanced at Sirius, who looked back at him and nodded. It was just the big one left in the room. Remus thought his name was Bill. He knew Sirius could handle himself, was a better dueler than any of them, practically smelled of magic. And James would be back any moment; apparating didn’t take long. Something in him screamed  _ no  _ but there was no avoiding Dumbledore. He rose.

“Julin requested your presence as we made the bond that would guarantee his loyalty,” Dumbledore said. “He felt uncomfortable with me performing the necessary magic.”

“Why me?” Remus asked stupidly.

“He felt a fellow lycanthrope would be less likely to turn his blood to silver, I imagine.” Dumbledore said, and opened the door to where Julian sat.

The magic only took moments. A golden jet flew from Remus’ wand and wrapped around Dumbledore and Julian’s outstretched hands, and there was a flash. Outside, someone shouted.

The hairs on the back of Remus’ neck stood up. Julian shifted uncomfortably, like he was going to speak. “Wanna say thanks,” he mumbled. Remus wondered if he would be sleeping on the streets that night. 

“You’re quite welcome,” Dumbledore said.

Remus was going to ask the terms of their deal, if Julian needed help, but there was thumps coming from the other room and his stomach tightened dangerously. The shouting grew louder when Remus opened the door, and then a cold rush hit him.  _ Sirius _ . He ran.

Bill was on the ground, his nose a mess of blood. Sirius was scowling, his knuckles bloodied and his wand on the ground. James appeared a moment later, and when he did looked from Sirius to Remus and back, then wisely kept his mouth shut.

  
  
  


“I feel this was very successful,” Dumbledore said after everyone had left, even Bill, who Remus considered tearing apart with his teeth but decided better. Instead, he had made sure James took Julian somewhere safe for the night. “I would like to try again next month, perhaps farther from the moon so aggressions are not so high.”

“Excuse me, sir. I ought to get him home.” Remus said. Sirius looked offended and opened his mouth to argue, but Dumbledore nodded once, and Remus grabbed Sirius’ arm and apparated.

“Oof! You know I hate side along!” Sirius groaned as they appeared in their flat. “It makes me dizzy.” He reached up and rubbed at his shoulder, then looked sidelong at Remus. “And what’s this about getting me home? I’m not some damsel.” He glowered at Remus, who ignored him, throwing off his robe and shoes.

“You’re still mad then?” Sirius asked, the air between them souring like they might fight or kiss and neither knew which.

“I’m not mad,” Remus muttered, moving to the kitchen and putting the kettle on. 

“Jealous? Moody? I don’t know what this mood is called. Interested in fucking me but too prideful to do so?”

“Your calling me prideful is like a dragon calling a fireplace toasty.”

“They’re both hot, though.” Sirius said, coming up behind Remus, his arms encircling his waist. It was a peace offering, and Remus knew he should take it, knew he had been grouchy for days in anticipation of this and Sirius had borne it all with unusual restraint.

Instead he grunted, reaching for a mug and pausing mid-movement. He sniffed, and then he frowned. “You smell different,” he said.

“Well that’s a compliment,” Sirius said, nosing at the back of Remus’ neck. “Do I need a shower, then?”

“No, you smell  _ different _ .” Remus spun around and pushed Sirius, just hard enough to send him back two steps. 

“Oi! Just tell me to fuck off, if you want!” Sirius snapped, and raised one hand to rub at that spot on his shoulder. Remus stared at his hand, and then he lunged, knocking Sirius back against the cabinets and yanking at his shirt until he found it. A bruise. A bruise in the shape of a mouth.

“He bit you,” Remus breathed, feeling a swarm of something dark red and angry rising up in his chest.

“He was just being a handsy tool.”

“He  _ bit _ you,” Remus said again, his hands shaking. 

“And I knocked him sideways. His nose is broken; I heard it crunch. Moony? Are you trembling?”

Remus was. He knew Sirius wasn’t infected, knew it would take a bite on the Full to give him that curse. But still he stared at the mark, feeling like maybe he’d destroy something, or someone. Sirius was talking to him, touching Remus’ face, his eyebrows knitted together in concern, but all Remus could think of was another mouth on Sirius’ shoulder. That dark voice in him that got louder as the moon waxed was screaming, thrashing, shouting  _ mineminemine _ and before Remus could really consider why, he leaned forward and fit his mouth over the mark and bit until he tasted blood.

“Fuck!” Sirius shouted, jerking in Remus’ arms. “Moony!”

Remus tightened his grip, digging his fingers into Sirius’ arms and biting harder until Sirius stopped squirming and went still, panting heavy in Remus’ ear. “Moony,” he tried again, and his voice cracked. “Remus, talk to me.”

“He has no right,” Remus murmured, his face pressed against Sirius’ shoulder, inhaling deeply the scent there. He felt like he was drowning beneath too-tall waves of something. The world felt bright and vivid the way it did on the Full, and he could practically smell the wound on Sirius’ skin. “He has no right to you.”

Sirius shivered. “It didn’t mean anything.”

“It  _ did _ , Sirius. He meant it.” Remus licked over the broken skin and Sirius squirmed. “He had no right to touch you.” He pulled back and looked at Sirius, whose eyes were wide but glazed. “Only I get to touch you.”

“I know,” Sirius said softly. There was the truth between them: that Sirius could curse Remus into oblivion any time he felt; that Remus could push him against counters and hold his wrists only so long as Sirius consented; that if he wanted to, he could fuck half of London and all Remus could do is leave; that he wouldn’t, that he stayed, that he chose being Remus’ before anything else, because it was the best thing he had ever been.

Remus linked his fingers with Sirius’ and tugged, and Sirius followed him easily, obediently standing in the middle of the bed room while Remus moved around him, closed the door and flicked his zipper down. He shimmied out of his jeans and let Remus pull his shirt up and off and then stood, naked, watching Remus close the curtains. 

Remus turned to look at Sirius, the pale expanse of him, the way his toes curled inward and his hair tendriled down from the bun it was piled in. Sirius didn’t like to stand exposed like this, started to feel confused and anxious when it went on too long, so Remus came back to him, kissed him soundly. Sirius sighed against his mouth, pressed himself against Remus. “Remus,” he mumbled, reaching up for Remus’ hair. 

Remus caught his hands and looked at him for a long moment and then shoved him, hard enough that he stumbled and tripped back onto the bed, hard enough that he bounced. Sirius scrambled up on his elbows, looking at Remus with his mouth open and his eyes a little dilated.

“Do you ever listen to me when I tell you there’s danger?” Remus asked softly.

“I—“

“Say yes, Moony or no, Moony.”

Sirius swallowed hard, his adam’s apple bobbing. “No, Moony,” he said eventually.

Remus closed his eyes. He was slipping out of control, he knew, and beyond his control was something dark. He clenched his fists and unclenched them. “Didn’t I tell you?”

“Yes, you did, but I thought… I thought it’d be okay.”

Remus crouched on the bed by Sirius’ ankles, running his hand up his shin, around the back of his calf. His hand skittered over Sirius’ knees, up the soft flesh there. Remus stopped when he reached Sirius’ thighs, pushing gently so that they fell open. Sirius was hard, had been hard since Remus bit him, even if the thought made his cheeks hot. “You’re mine,” Remus said again, softly, and then he swallowed Sirius’ cock to the root.

Sirius gasped at the sudden wet heat, and clenched his fists in the bedsheets when Remus hollowed his cheeks. “Fucking shit fuck, Remus,” he panted, throwing his head back. Remus bobbed his head fast, pulling Sirius to the back of his throat, and Sirius groaned, because he was usually the one on his knees and Remus looked exquisite like that, his lips red around Sirius’ dick, his eyes flaming.

Sirius bucked his hips and Remus growled, the sound of it sending reverberations against his skin. Remus’ hands pushed down on his hips; even in this Remus was in charge, even in this Remus pressed hard into the soft skin above Sirius’ hip bone until Sirius whined. He slowed down and pulled off for a moment, lapping at the tip of Sirius’ cock, one hand cupping his balls and squeezing them just tight enough to border on pain. “Lovely,” Remus said, and squeezed a little tighter, so that Sirius thrashed his head against the pillowcase. 

“Please,” Sirius gasped, and Remus lowered his head again, letting the tip of Sirius’ dick hit the back of his throat, and lost himself in the feeling of it, licking and sucking his way down to Sirius’ balls and up again. He could memorize this, he thought, the sound of Sirius feeling pleasure, the way his body radiated heat. His cheeks were a high pink and his eyes were closed, little puffs of air escaping the red of his mouth, and Remus took him in entirely, hummed just enough to make Sirius’ back arch and his thighs clench, the weight of his orgasm fast and hard.

Remus pulled off when Sirius collapsed back on the bed, breathing heavy. There was sweat on his chest and he smelled right again. Remus smiled for a moment, and then looked again to the mark on his shoulder, and scowled. He knew he should wait. He knew Sirius was thoroughly unfuckable right after he came; he got overstimulated, and even the lightest touch burned him, and he would squirm away from Remus’ hands. The thought made his stomach clench. The darkest part of him said  _ mine  _ and he grabbed Sirius’ ankles, lifting them up on his shoulders.

“Moony?” Sirius asked blearily, then whimpered when two fingers pressed cool and slick against his entrance. “NnnRemusplease,” he whined, arching his back against the pressure. 

“ _ Mine _ ,” Remus said, adding a third, and Sirius shook his head, reaching out for Remus’ wrists.

“Pleasesomuchplease” Sirius gasped, but Remus twisted his wrist sharply and Sirius cried out, flailing with the pressure of it, the too much and his nerves alight.

Remus lofted Sirius’ hips up off the bed and pressed his cock against his rim, sinking in gradually, groaning at the way Sirius was still spasming, his thighs shivering against Remus’ sides. Sirius’ mouth hung open, his eyes closed, and he clenched and unclenched his fists in the bedsheets.

“Look at me, Sirius.”

Sirius opened his eyes, and Remus saw that they were wet and dazed, and knew that Sirius was far gone, was off in a land where pain meant pleasure. He pulled almost entirely out, watching the slow drag of it make Sirius tremble. “Don’t you ever fucking let another werewolf near you again,” Remus snarled, and snapped his hips forward.

He knew the pace was punishing and he knew Sirius was blabbering, pleas and moans and swears all tangled in one. He knew Sirius would be sore the next day. He knew he should slow down, should kiss his boyfriend all over, should apologize for being so angry, should make Sirius tea and toast and rub his shaking limbs. He knew and the wolf said  _ no  _ said  _ mine _ said  _ more _ , and Remus was lost in it, thrusting hard just to hear Sirius’ sharp intake of breath and the hitch in his voice when Remus rubbed against his prostate. 

Sirius started to writhe, overwhelmed and overstimulated and his nerves sparking fire, and Remus swore, angled his hips to hit that spot over and over until Sirius was crying, undone beneath him. His stomach was tight with the impending orgasm, and he bit at anything he could reach, Sirius’ ankle, his calf, his wrist. He wanted to mark him all over. He wanted everyone who ever looked to know that Sirius was his, was not up for grabs. 

Remus shouted when he came, pumping hard, and for long moments afterwards he was lost in it, the roar in his ears. Eventually he shook his head, and looked down at Sirius sticky beneath him. He smiled and patted Sirius’ leg, slowly letting it drop from his shoulder.

“Good,” Remus murmured, kissing Sirius’ ankle as he placed his leg back on the bed. “So good.” His eyes roved over Sirius, his hair stuck to his neck and the pillowcase, his eyes closed, one arm thrown over his face, the tattoos there shifting and catching Remus’ eye. He looked at the mark on his shoulder and frowned lightly, running his fingers up Sirius’ torso to skim his fingers there.

“I’m just looking,” Remus said when Sirius whimpered, dropping his head to kiss his cheek. “You did good,” he murmured, and Sirius shivered beneath him. “You’re so lovely and good.”

Sirius shook his head hard, because he did even worse with unabashed praise than he did with overstimulation. “StopitMoony,” He said, but Remus moved his arm and kissed him. 

“Lovely and wonderful and true,” Remus said, and grabbed Sirius’ wrists to keep him from running. Sirius looked up at him and made a noise in the back of his throat that meant  _ stop _ , and Remus kissed him again, softer this time. “Bath?” He asked. Sirius nodded once, and Remus stood, stretching the exhaustion out of his legs and hips. He tangled his fingers in Sirius’ and tugged until Sirius sat up, swaying. “Come on, love,” Remus said, and Sirius stumbled up on his feet, disoriented and half leaning on Remus.

He charmed the tub full and hot and they both climbed in, fit together like two puzzle pieces, Sirius’ back on Remus’ chest. Remus ran a washcloth over Sirius’ stomach, his hips, bringing water up to dribble over the bruise on his shoulder.

“Do you want me to magic that better?” Remus murmured into his ear, kissing the soft spot beneath it.

Sirius shook his head, and when he spoke his voice was rough but he sounded more of himself again, only halfway in that unreachable place. “No. Probably get another good fuck or two out of it.”

Remus snorted, wrapped his arms around Sirius, felt their hearts beating off rhythm. “Is that what that was?”

“Mmhmm. Why’d you think I came along?”

“Because you like werewolves and danger.”

“I like  _ you _ very much, Remus Lupin, but werewolves? I could live without being stared at like a piece of meat.”

Remus frowned, straightening up in the tub. “Then why?”

“You get handsy.” Sirius sighed happily, tilting his head back against Remus’ shoulder. “And you are terribly jealous about the idea of someone sniffing me.”

Remus let out a noise he wanted to be dignified but was likely more a squawk. “You planned this!” He blustered.

“Did. Our friend Bill did help. Credit to him.” Sirius found Remus’ hands and splayed one across his own stomach and the other over his shoulder, his palm against the bite he had left. “It‘s nice to remember,” Sirius said softly, and the playfulness was gone from his voice.

“Remember what?”

“Us. We belong to each other.” 

Remus pressed his face against Sirius’ hair. “Alright,” he admitted, warm and sated and full of that feeling that came when he and Sirius were fitted together, just the two of them breathing in the same air and helping each other be a little more sane. “Alright,” he said again, and leaned around to kiss Sirius’ cheek. “But next time, do it without werewolves.”

“Mm. Vampires next.”

“ _ Sirius _ .”

Sirius laughed softly, sinking against him. They stayed like that for a long time, soft and content, until the water cooled.


End file.
